Hunger
by theBabewiththePower
Summary: What if Jareth hadn't been such a gentleman in Sarah's peach dream? Lemony one-shot in which the Goblin King decides to use less-than-honorable means in order to keep Sarah. CONTINUED due to reader demand, will now be a three-shot.
1. Hunger

**Author's Note:**

 **This is rated for sexual content, and some of the themes may be disturbing to some people. However, I ask you read to the end before you judge, things are not always what they seem.**

* * *

She wandered through the throngs of dancers, searching, hunting. She had to find him, though she wasn't exactly sure who _he_ was. In fact, she was under the impression that there were two _hims_ that she needed to find, though she hadn't the faintest idea why. Come to think of it, she wasn't entirely aware of where she was, or _who_ she was, and strangest of all, she didn't really seem too bothered by that. _He_ would explain it, she thought, feeling a small warmth grow within her at the reassuring thought.

She moved gracefully in her beautiful dress, though she was sure that she had never worn one like this before. Working her way through the revelers, her eyes alit on him at last, standing still, as if waiting for her. She knew him despite the horned mask, _that_ was the one she was looking for. The mask lowered and her breath caught at his beauty, she stood and gazed at him, waiting for him to approach.

 _There's such a sad love, deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel, open and closed, within your eyes,_

 _I'll place the sky-y... within your eyes,_

Jareth lowered his mask so as to better appraise her. Gods above, but she was _beautiful._ He wondered how she had managed to dream-dress herself exactly to his tastes, a feat many experienced women had tried and failed at. Her sleeves were magnificent.

He had been somewhat surprised when he had received emergency correspondence from a neighboring kingdom, saying that one of his runners had somehow shown up at their ball, dressed in a wedding gown and looking politely confused. Peach dreams usually resulted in the runner living out one of the fantasies typical of mortals, something along the lines of fame and fortune, power and prestige, lust and love. Never before had a runner actually transported themselves outside of the Labyrinth, though, they usually stayed where they fell, sleeping their remaining time away as they dreamed deceptively sweet dreams. But then again, Sarah was anything but typical. He had promptly appeared at the party, to keep an eye on her, and to see how her dream played out.

He paused in his thoughts as he watched her still watching him, as if she knew him. But that was impossible, wasn't it? She should have no memories, just a fuzzy, dream-like euphoria. And yet, she stood there still, gazing at him as if he was the only person in the room, as if she was waiting for him. He suddenly had the unsettling impression of being the groom at a wedding, and he slipped away, out of her line of sight, his two provided attendants rushing after him.

 _There's such a foo-ooled heart, beating so fast, in search of ne-ew dreams, a love that will last,_

 _within your heart, I'll place the moo-oon, within your heart,_

Aware of the many eyes in the room that were on him, he danced with the two beautiful attendants that had been waiting for him on arrival, a redhead named Sevna and a blonde named Moira. They informed him that no one had touched the girl yet, but that likely wouldn't last much longer, the ball had been going on for days, most of the people were too far gone in their drink and their lust to care for propriety or decency anymore, and a beautiful, naive girl was easy prey. Promising them trinkets and favors, he convinced the two fae women to do as he said and help him follow her, discretely.

They did their job well, while he failed miserably, unable to take his eyes off of her. What was it about her that drew him in? Was it her innocence? No, he had seen innocence before, he had taken innocence before, and it felt nothing near this, it wasn't that, at least not _just_ that. He watched her as she searched for him, a growing feeling of excitement blossoming in his breast, seeing, as she moved, all the things that made him love her; her grace, her bravery, her single-mindedness, her purity, her strength, her beauty.

 _But I'll be there for you-oo-oo, as the world falls dow-ah-own,_

And he stood alone now, contemplating what to do about her, aware of the fae around him taking note of his struggle, wondering what was going on with him and this bizarre girl. They gossiped amongst themselves, theories ranging from him wanting her as a bed-slave to her having some kind of power over him. The latter was closer to the truth, though he would never admit it.

 _Falling in love…_

Finally he made up his mind, unable to watch her wander purposelessly through the drunken fae any longer.

 _I'll paint you mornings of gold, I'll spin you valentine evenings, though we're strangers 'til now,_

 _We're choosing the path, between the stars,_

 _I'll leave my lo-ove, be-tween the stars,_

And when he finally held her in his arms, he knew it would kill him to ever let her go, and he knew what he had to do. Sensing his purpose, the other fae gathered around them in a circle, forming the Faery Ring.

 _Falling, falling,_

But soon Sarah became frightened as all the strange, masked faces pressed closer, wanting to get a look at the girl chosen by the Goblin King, and so he led her away, into a quiet corner, and she never saw the clock, never remembered the other _him_ that she was supposed to find. Jareth would send the babe back after, if it would please her, but right now all he knew was her in his arms, and he made another decision, reaching inside her with his magic, to where the bite of his peach was, a piece of himself, magic uniquely his own, and he twisted it, changing it into something far more dangerous that a simple dream-peach. She had to be willing, yes, but that didn't mean he couldn't help her get there.

The effect was immediate, the hunger pains making Sarah grunt and gasp in his arms, he stepped back from her for a moment, adrenaline rushing through his veins.

 _This is madness!_ He thought, trying in vain to reconcile his mind with his actions.

 _Falling in love…._

But his body moved of its own accord, guided by something far more primal and powerful than idle logic and unsatisfying precaution. She was _stunning_ , and she wanted _him,_ she had searched for him, though she had no memories. He reached out a trembling hand, stroking her soft cheek and turning her face towards what he had to offer her.

Sarah felt like she hadn't eaten in weeks, all she knew was an all-consuming hunger that wracked her body, a need for _peaches,_ for _his peaches_ , she would do _anything_ to get more, she _had_ to have them.

Jareth exhaled delicately upon seeing the darkening look in her confused eyes, seeing her begin to breathe heavily with need, he missed her warmth in his arms, but this game must be played by the book. He swallowed thickly and conjured a crystal, that almost immediately became another peach.

"Is this what you want, precious thing?" He held up the peach in front of her, only to jerk it away and hold it high above them when she lunged for it, causing her to collide bodily with him.

"Ah ah ah," he chastised her teasingly, wrapping one arm around her waist, while the other held the peach just out of her reach. _Let the games begin_ , he thought with a brief chuckle.

" _Please_ , I need, I need-" Sarah pleaded with him breathlessly as she wriggled against him, trying unsuccessfully to reach the fruit she craved so desperately.

Her sweet, warm breath tickled his cheek, and he nearly gave in. Seeing those innocent eyes fixated so lustfully on his fruit, feeling her sweet young body pressing up against his, it was almost too much, he almost gave up the game right there in favor of a more forward approach. He grabbed her upstretched arm by the wrist and pinned it behind her back, pulling her flush against him, then paused at the quick spark of fear, followed immediately by steely defiance, that flashed through her eyes. He craved her strength and defiance, but she was still _so_ young, barely a woman yet, and he didn't want to scare her off. This time, this _first_ time, he would need her to keep her claws sheathed. He must be careful.

 _Softly, gently, then._

Keeping his eyes locked steadily with hers, he let go of her wrist and slowly brought the peach to his lips with his other hand, holding her gaze as his teeth pierced the succulent flesh, a small trickle of sticky juice running down his chin.

Sarah gasped at this, the desperate hunger returning to her eyes, her limbs beginning to shake from her need as hunger pangs shot through her belly. He swallowed, and she watched the bite move down his throat, the _need_ tearing through her again. Her eyes shot back to his mouth as he took another teasing bite, watching her with a heated look.

She lunged for the fruit again, but Jareth was quicker. With lightning reflexes, he crashed his lips to hers, taking advantage of her slightly parted lips to thrust the piece of fruit into her mouth with his tongue, slanting his mouth to fit against hers and sealing their lips together, moving his tongue against hers and silently urging her to take what he offered. Sarah froze in shock for a moment before her body took over and swallowed. She moaned into his mouth at the feeling of the warm fruit as it slid down her throat, easing her pain and cooling her insides a little bit.

But it wasn't enough, she need _more_. She pulled Jareth to her by the shoulders, sucking the juices from his tongue and lips with an absent-minded desperation born of an all-consuming need, her hands gripping his shoulders for leverage. He hadn't expected this strong of a reaction, and he tried to pull away from her before he lost control, pushing her away, pulling her closer, pillaging her mouth, unable to decide what to do, his body at war with his mind. His free hand began roaming her body, gloved fingers running light as a feather around her waist and abdomen, up her side, her arm, her neck, her cheek, her hair. He lost himself in her kiss, holding the peach behind her back with his other hand so that she would try to satisfy her craving with _him_ instead. He hissed as she bit his lip in her frantic hunger, drawing blood. She drew back from him and froze, a look of confusion and fear in her eyes as she blinked, starting to come back to herself and pushing him away. Thinking fast, Jareth brought the peach to her mouth and pressed the juicy yellow flesh to her lips. Her eyes glazed as she took a large bite, and Jareth watched in fascination as she savored the bite, moving her lips and tongue sensually over the fruit in her mouth, making little sounds of pleasure, before swallowing, then looking up at him open mouthed, dazed and temporarily sated.

"There was something," she started after a moment, speaking slowly, as if in a dream, licking her lips as she struggled to form her words, "I was looking for something, _someone_ ,"

"Yes," he answered soothingly, taking her hand gently and leading her behind a curtained alcove, untying the heavy velvet drape and letting it cover the entrance so that they would have privacy.

"You were looking for me." he said. It was a half-truth, at least. He wondered for a moment, why _had_ she been so determined to track him down, when she had no memories of him? Was it possible that she had some kind of feelings for him, something that would make her feel drawn to him, despite her amnesia? He pushed down an uncharacteristic stab of guilt and cast a quick spell, ensuring that they would not be disturbed.

"I was?" she asked, confused.

"Yes, and now you've found me." he explained in a reassuring voice, giving her an easy smile.

"Oh." The dim light caught the silver ornaments in her dark hair as she sat down side by side with him on the cushions, nodding slightly as if trying to assure herself that this made sense.

Jareth's breath caught in his throat at how beautiful she was, so trusting and innocent. Her eyes followed his movements sharply as he raised the peach to his mouth again, a mischievous look in his eye, taking a bite from a different part this time, so that more juice ran down his face, down his neck, and then made the peach disappear. Her eyes watched the juice hungrily as her craving returned, and soon she leaned towards him, wanting to taste it again.

He leaned back as she pressed her mouth on his, bringing her slowly down with him as he sunk into the huge pillows. She made a small sound of displeasure when he refused to open his mouth to her, making him smirk against her lips. Frustrated, she made do with licking and sucking the juice off of his cheek, his jaw, his neck, the desperate hunger coming back, clouding her senses.

He lay very still, letting her do as she pleased and trying not to move, though he wanted to desperately. He had been hard since that first kiss, and more than anything he wanted to roll her over and show her exactly what she was doing to him. But he restrained himself, he didn't want to frighten her, didn't want to risk her panicking and fleeing. The peach was affecting him too by now, and he had to fight to keep his wits about him.

He had given her his fae song, had danced her through a faery circle, she was his by right now, but he had to consummate their bond to make it final, irrevocable. If not, and if by some impossible chance she completed the Labyrinth, she would be able to leave, and he would be left here alone and in pain forever.

His fingers worked deftly on the fastenings on the back of her dress as she continued to suckle his neck, trying to get every last drop of that addictive juice. She looked up at him in surprise when she felt the cool air on her back, but he distracted her by pulling the peach out from where he had hidden it and taking another bite, then offering her one, which she accepted eagerly. She sighed in relief again and rested her head on his shoulder, savoring the sweetness as she chewed and swallowed.

He shifted her slightly so that she rested on him more fully, giving her more power, encouraging her to be more bold, rubbing her back through her slip to relax her further, and using the motion of his hands to push down the bodice of her dress. She responded with little sighs against his neck, melting into his lean, muscular frame as his talented fingers worked her sore muscles. Even now, he remained still, letting her take the lead for now, the spell would only work if she wanted him, and fear was the opposite of true desire. There would be time for fear later.

After a time she grew restless, wanting more of the peach but being too shy to ask, the intense hunger pulsing through her body and making her wriggle in discomfort on top of him. Jareth silently congratulated himself on his restraint; though his breaths came in shallow gasps now, and the front of his pants was _painfully_ tight, he did not thrust against her, or make any other show of power or strength. He would be there for her, as he had promised.

Finally she looked at him, emerald eyes earnest and beseeching.

"Can't you make it stop? I feel as though I'm on _fire_ on the inside, I'm so hungry, I'm sure I'll die if you don't do something. Touching you helps a little, but not enough. Will you help me? Please?" she asked in that sweet voice of hers, and he nearly came undone right there beneath her.

"I can make it stop, for good," he answered in a husky tone, lifting his head so that his lips were inches from hers, his hands massaging her sides, dropping all pretenses. He wanted her, and he wanted her to know it. He waved a hand over her hair, magically removing the silver ornaments so that her hair fell around her in a curtain. "I can make it so that you will never hunger again, if you will trust me," he said, intense, uneven eyes imploring her for acceptance.

"Promise?" she asked, a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

Jareth groaned, seeing what he needed in her face and flipping her over, though the layers of fabric still prevented any true intimacy. "I would give you the very heart of the world if it were in my power to do so, all I ask is your trust and obedience, and you will have _anything_ you want," he breathed the words against her lips, waiting for what seemed an eternity before she finally answered.

"I don't know anything, and yet I know _you_. I _see_ you, and I _trust_ you," she answered with perfect innocence and a little smile, relaxing beneath him. "That's just the truth. Now _please_ , make this hunger stop."

Jareth pulled back for a moment, raising himself off of her long enough to free himself of his coat and shirt, and her of her shoes and dress, which she parted from with a squeak. The slip she wore underneath was of white silk, embroidered with golden flowers, and she was so beautiful, lying there beneath him, watching him with an inquisitive look, that he almost regretted ripping it off of her. Almost.

She gasped in shock, crossing her legs and covering her breasts, but Jareth leaned down and pressed his lips to hers tenderly, keeping the rest of his body lifted above her, preventing any escape attempts. This was the tricky part.

"What are you doing-" she started in indignation, eyes looking up at him bright with alarm.

"- _Trust_ me, precious, I will not harm you, I mean to help you, and I swear I will do all in my power to bring you nothing but joy," he whispered against her ear, holding himself up above her, but not touching her, waiting for her to relax and beckon him to continue.

Sarah lay frozen and curled in on herself, unsure of how to react, but she soon became distracted by the hunger again. He said he could help... "It _hurts_ , please... "

He conjured a fresh crystal, letting his desires transform it into a peach as he had before, and giving it to the girl beneath him. He watched with adoration as she consumed it, hungrily sucking and lapping at the fruit of his magic, of _him_ , making little sounds of enjoyment as she devoured it. When all that was left was the pit, she let it fall to the side, relaxing languidly beneath him and gazing up at him with a kind of sleepy curiosity.

 _Slowly, gently._

He lowered his head, keeping eye contact all the while with her, before kissing her neck, nuzzling and sucking, as she had done to him. The peach juice had ran down either side of her face, and so he kissed it all away, running his tongue under her jaw and nipping her earlobe.

Sarah gasped and tilted her head, baring her neck to him. Somehow, this pacified her in the same way the taste of his peaches did, and she found herself growing warm, wanting more, but this was a pleasant hunger, rather than a painful one. Wanting more of _what_ , she wasn't exactly sure, but he seemed to know, and so she decided to trust him.

Sensing her acceptance, Jareth smiled against her neck, then began kissing his way down her chest. He gently took her hands in his, holding them on either side of her head and lacing his fingers with hers, providing reassurance by stroking her thumbs with his. Her chest now exposed to him, he drew back slightly to look at her. The dim crystal-light of the room made her pale skin seemed to glow, she was flawless, and he bent down to kiss one of her breasts.

Sarah gasped in surprise, but it was only a brief touch of the lips on her, and then he looked up, giving her a wicked grin. He let go of her left hand and began to stroke her nipple in a circular motion with two fingers, still keeping his weight off of her and watching her closely to make sure she wasn't frightened. Sarah watched him curiously, eyes darting from his face to his hand.

"How does that feel, precious?" he purred.

Sarah's mind was in turmoil. There were several alarm bells going off in the back of her mind, telling her that she should get away, that something wasn't right. But there was a stronger voice, a warm, soothing murmur, that drowned out the other voices, wrapping her mind in a warm haze like a fluffy blanket, making her feel comfortable and safe. _Trust him_ , it said, and she wanted to, so badly, and she didn't want the hunger to come back.

"Good. That feels good." she said breathlessly, and Jareth's eyes flashed in triumph as he saw her uncertainty fade and be gradually replaced with desire. He lowered his head to her other breast, suckling and massaging her with his lips and tongue while his gloved fingers continued to gently stroke the other one. Sarah moaned and squeezed his hand, not sure what to do.

"And how does that feel?" he asked against her skin, pleased to feel her hand tentatively running through his hair, he knew she wanted more, but didn't know how to ask.

" _Very_ good," she answered in a husky voice, somewhat aware that he had settled his bare abdomen between her legs, which she had unconsciously uncrossed and parted slightly during his ministrations. She felt a strange new feeling growing within her, a kind of buzzing liquid warmth, which pulsed and rippled within her, particularly down _there._ Suddenly, he stopped touching her, raising himself off of her completely, not touching her at all, and the violent craving came back at once, making her gasp. She felt cold and exposed, and the terrible hungry ache returned with a vengeance.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked calmly, face expectant as he watched her squirm in discomfort.

"No! No, don't stop, don't stop touching me…" she said, reaching for him and pulling him back down to her. He settled on top of her again, their bare chests pressed together as he kissed her with a passion that he could not, _would_ not hold back any longer. She didn't seem to mind, exploring his back and arms with her hands as their tongues danced together.

Jareth could feel the heat of her branding him through his pants, and began grinding against her slowly. Sarah gasped, feeling something hard twitch and then press against her _there_ , through the fabric of her underwear, and the warm buzzing feeling in her grew, becoming an empty, burning ache.

Jareth began kissing her jaw, and then down her neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses as he worked his way back down to her breasts, where he resumed sucking on and rolling her nipples between his fingers, making her moan and arch up into him. He left her breasts and made his way further south, worshiping her stomach with warm kisses. Sarah propped herself up on her elbows to watch him, and he looked up and held her gaze as he stroked her lightly through her underwear, her eyelids fluttering at the sensation. She noticed that at some point on his way down he had removed his gloves, she stared at the long, pale, graceful fingers as he stroked her with his knuckles, her breathing becoming ragged. She saw with a start why he wore gloves; rather than fingernails, he had sharp-looking black claws at the end of his fingers. She tensed a little as he reached for her, hooking his fingers in the bands of her panties and pulled them down her legs, casting them aside into the pile of their discarded clothing, and leaving her completely bare before him. Seeing her apprehension, Jareth slowly set his naked hand on her stomach, and Sarah was startled to find that the claws were not sharp at all, in fact, she found she rather liked how it felt when he dragged them across her belly.

"They are blunted, precious thing. And I said I would not harm you."

Before she could answer, he dipped his head between her legs and kissed her _there_. Sarah gasped and gripped the pillows with both hands, eyes involuntarily falling closed at the exquisite feeling of his lips on her. He drew back slightly, catching her gaze when she opened her eyes, and then giving her a single, long, deep lick. It was so incredibly erotic, watching him watch her watching him, she lost all thought of hesitation, wrapping her legs around his head and forcing him closer to her, wanting more of that delicious heat that he created in her, that rippling heat that burned away her other hunger, wanting _him_. He obliged gladly, licking and sucking at her, tongue thrusting in and out of her.

Sarah writhed on the cushions, making small mewling sounds and tossing her head from side to side, losing herself in the mounting feeling of pleasure that was growing within her. Jareth paced himself for some time, giving her just enough to keep her on the edge of release, long tongue sliding firmly against her inner walls, using just the right amount of pressure in just the right places to make her mindless with want, crying out for relief. Eventually, he gave her what she needed, sucking on her clit until she came undone.

Sarah arched her back and let out a high keening sound, as suddenly a warmth came over her, like jumping into a hot tub, but on the inside; the blooming warmth flooded her and washed away all her tension, leaving her to collapse boneless and breathless on the pillows, her mind a blur. She felt as if she was floating in oblivion, held aloft by thousands of tiny, warm, fuzzy butterflies.

Surveying his handiwork with an appreciative smirk, the Goblin King removed his boots and pants, climbing back up onto the pile of cushions to hover over Sarah, who was still mostly out of it. He looked down at her, naked and satisfied beneath him, and was overcome with emotion, so powerful that it felt like a knife in his chest.

"Oh, my beautiful girl, the things you do to me. You have ruined me, all my walls torn down, brought me to my knees before you." He began to settle against her, her eyelids flickering as he rubbed his head against her soaked entrance.

"But now I will have an eternity to pay you back in kind, and you will be as much mine as I am yours."

Sarah's eyes opened and looked at him in surprise, and then he took her in one quick thrust.

She cried out in pain as he buried himself deep within her, and he let out a savage growl, stilling himself and pressing his face into her neck as he waited for her to adjust to him.

"Mmmh- Ahh…." Sarah gasped, overwhelmed by the feeling of his considerable size filling her, and the pain of her torn maidenhead, but still too far gone with peaches and pleasure to form any coherent thoughts.

"You are _mine,_ mine!" he whispered harshly into her ear, voice shaky with pleasure as he felt her contract around him, pulling him deeper. Before she could respond, he covered her mouth with his own in a passionate kiss and began to move, sure, gentle strokes designed to bring her quickly from pain back to pleasure. Soon her whimpers transformed into little sighing and keening noises in his mouth, and he felt her opening to him, welcoming him.

Sarah's mind was a puddle of want, she was vaguely aware of some objections to this sparking in the back of her mind, but she pushed them away in favor of the wonderful feeling of fullness, of wholeness that he gave her. He began to move faster, hitting deeper and deeper within her, raising himself up slightly so as to strike at a different angle, hitting a spot within her that intensified the rippling need that burned stronger and stronger inside her, and she clung to him, entwining her legs with his and crying out with each thrust, as she moved closer and closer to something powerful, and as of yet unknown to her.

She gasped again and again against his smooth shoulder, in awe of the feeling of his lean muscular chest pressed against hers, the exquisite pressure of his hardness deep within her. The warm bubble that had been growing within her popped without warning, and she arched beneath him, crying out in ecstasy. He followed immediately after, groaning into her shoulder as his hips faltered and then thrust once more hard against her, spilling his seed deep within her and sealing the irrevocable bond between them.

Every cell in her body was at once numb and hyper-sensitive, and the floating feeling from the first orgasm he had given her was now more akin to dematerialization, as if she no longer existed on the physical plane, but was formless, a disembodied consciousness that knew only bliss. However, it could not last, and, as she gradually came back to herself, back to him, him who was still buried deep within her, she remembered, remembered everything.

Jareth felt her stiffen beneath him, and he lifted his head, meeting green eyes full of horror and betrayal.

" _Jareth."_

* * *

He woke up alone in his bed, drenched in sweat and gasping as he lay flat on his back, eyes staring unseeingly up at the ceiling for a few minutes. He closed his eyes for a moment and composed himself, before detangling his body from the sheets and walking out to his balcony, letting the night air cool his bare, inflamed skin as he leaned against the stone rail, gazing out over the moonlit Labyrinth, trying to distract his tumultuous mind with the cold, wild beauty before him.

It had been fifteen years since Sarah had left, nine years in Aboveground time, and every night since, he dreamed about her, about what he might have done differently, ways he could have ensured that she stayed. Vivid, detailed, multi-dimensional dreams, as only the King of Dreams could have. He had not seduced her as he had so wanted to back then, no, he had not induced the craving within her, he had not distracted her from the memory-triggering clock, and he had let her destroy her dream ball, let her go, and now he suffered for it every day, feeling the physical pain of the rejected bond constantly, twisting his insides like hunger pains that would not, could not be satisfied. He had kept his word, and he had left his love between the stars. He could have kept her, spared himself this pain, but she would have resented him for it, maybe even hated him, once the effects of the peach had worn off and she realized what had happened, what he had done. He just would have traded one kind of pain for another, traded this physical pain of a rejected bond for the emotional pain of being rejected daily by the woman he was bonded to. He wondered what she was doing right now, after all these years. He had not seen her once in all this time, her final words keeping him at bay.

He did a quick calculation in his mind. She would be twenty-five years old in a few weeks. He wondered, with no small amount of bitterness, if she had found someone yet, gotten married, had children. He knew without a doubt that no mortal man could be her equal, but the draw of companionship was a strong one, no one wanted to be alone. He knew _he_ would never settle for anyone lesser, but that didn't mean she wouldn't.

With a self depreciating sigh, he gave up on the hope of getting any more sleep tonight and flung himself from the balcony, strong owl wings catching a warm updraft in the night air. He flew off to watch over his kingdom, leaving his broken dreams and deceitful fantasies behind him.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So, first attempt at writing sex, let me know what you think!**

 **I was inspired by Pika la Cynique's GND comic on DeviantArt, there is a panel where Jareth admits to having dark fantasies about keeping Sarah against her will, and I thought it would be interesting to explore that. He doesn't keep her, of course, because he loves her, and real love is not selfish, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to.**

 **Update October 2015:** **FINE.** **YOU WIN.**

 **Due to popular demand, I will continue this. I can't say when that might be though, I've got three other stories I'm working on right now and my head is overfull as it is. I really do appreciate all the interest and enthusiasm, it's just that trying to force a one-shot to grow into something more is very difficult. But for you, my beloved Labyrinth fandom, I will make it happen.**


	2. Curiosity

_Three months later..._

The door closed behind her with a lonely thud, shutting out the storm and the noise of the city. Sarah dropped her bag and groceries in the kitchenette and switched on the light, illuminating her tiny Manhattan apartment. There was a bookshelf against one wall, a recliner and a small table on another. A screen blocked her bed from view. It was quiet. It was always quiet. She shook her head and let out a breath.

Sarah hummed as she put things away, trying to ignore the nervous energy that had followed her home. The gloomy silence of her surroundings only exasperated it, and for a moment she considered heading back out into the hustle and bustle of the city. She would have, had she anyone to go with.

She didn't. Sarah's life hadn't exactly gone the way she thought it would.

At first, she thought that she simply had bad luck with men, but eventually she began to believe there was something intrinsically wrong with her, something that kept her from connecting to others in any meaningful way. Always it felt like something was missing from these attempted relationships, something basic and necessary. Her last attempt at a boyfriend had failed like all the rest, and she feared that her body was as cold and unyielding as her heart.

That had been some time ago, three years she had been alone now. Well that wasn't exactly right, she had always been alone in the truest sense. She filled her life with work and hobbies and empty acquaintances, but still there were these uncomfortable moments when things were quiet. Too quiet.

Everything was as tidy and organized as it was going to get, and, having nothing else to occupy herself with, she plopped down in her beloved brown poofy chair and cracked open a novel, eyes traveling over the page with an intentness born more out of determination than interest. Tonight was one of _those_ nights, she could feel it, and like always, she wasn't sure whether she was excited or apprehensive.

It happened maybe four, five times a year, for the past ten years, always around the same time, on the anniversary of her victory over the Labyrinth, and the time of the solstices, when ancient peoples once upon a time believed the veil between worlds was thinnest, that magic was able to influence them. On these nights, without fail, she would be pulled into a dream that was not hers, to spend a night in a magical world that she secretly wished was. She could only assume that the dreams must be _his,_ seeing as he was the only other person ever in them. But was he really so passionate, so sincere? Was it really _her_ he dreamed of embracing time after time? She could hardly comprehend it, let alone consider it.

Her fingers thrummed against the back of her book and the tension in the air pricked at her nerves, but she stubbornly read on, sinking herself into an imaginary world and distracting herself with the plot and prose well into the night. When the clock struck eleven, the lights began to dim around her, and her heart began to race.

She stared at her book until it was too dark to see the words, and then, with a deep, nervous breath, she set it down on the chair and stood, taking in her surroundings. It was not the ballroom this time. Not the castle either. She could make out the brickwork of the walls, see how the roof curved overhead, how the passageway twisted and turned on either side. She was in the tunnels again. This dream was one she had experienced before, although it was slightly different every time. Something clenched deep within her as she remembered. Tunnel dreams were always a bit _darker_ than the others.

She jumped as something rolled noisily towards her on the ground, a faint shine letting her know it was a crystal ball as it flitted by her feet. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth as she followed it, wondering why she didn't turn back, go back, wake up. She could if she wanted to. She had before, especially when she was younger. The crystal turned and rolled around the corner and into a larger, darker passage, and she followed it as if in a trance, curiosity overpowering all else.

A pile of rags sat slouched against a wall, holding a mug like a beggar on a streetcorner. The crystal jumped suddenly and landed neatly in the mug, which then seemed to disappear into the folds of ratty fabric. Sarah stood still, waiting for what would come next. The pile of rags looked up, revealing a large, lumpy nose and small, squinty eyes under a scruffy hat.

"Well, what have we here?" spoke a false, reedy voice.

"N-nothing," she answered with a gasp, playing along. She could feel the lure of compulsion tugging at her mind, telling her what to say and do, impressing upon her his desires and expectations. This was his mind, his dream, his world, and everything in it, even her to a degree, was of his imagining. Her body wasn't quite right, her clothes were out of style, her hair too long, even her voice was off. Her mind begged her to submit to his reality, but she resisted. Her will was as strong as his, after all.

"Nothing?" he spoke tauntingly as he stood.

She backed against the wall.

"Nothing? Nothing, tra la la?" the Goblin King spoke the last bit in his own deep, mocking, accented voice, having discarded his disguise. He shook it in front of her, as he had once done to Hoggle. But there was no treasonous dwarf here now to bear the brunt of his strange mood swings, there was only her. She said nothing, taking in his appearance while she waited for his next move.

He wore an outfit similar to the original; a brown leather jacket over luxurious patterned white silk, revealing grey tights tucked into sturdy heeled boots. Unlike before, the jacket was open and fell down to his knees, and the shirt was unbuttoned to the middle of his bare chest, which gleamed in the faint light and proudly displayed his golden pendant. His wild, fair hair shone against the dark contrast of his high collar, and his sharp eyes gleamed with some strange mixture of amusement, exasperation, and longing. He stepped towards her, cocking his head and regarding her appraisingly.

"Are you lost, precious thing?" the words slithered out from between lips curled into a predatory smirk.

"I'm sure I'll find my way," she heard herself say.

"With no one to show you how to get back?" he said.

"I don't want to go back!" she said indignantly.

"You don't?"

"No! I'm going to save Toby!" she said, and then wondered why she always played along, listening to the nudging at the edge of her consciousness that told her what he expected her to say. She wanted to tell him that it was really her, but she was afraid that would anger him, that he would somehow block her from these dreams. The very thought inexplicably left her feeling cold and sick.

"Your brother is safe at home in his bed."

"I don't- wait, what?" she said, thrown. This had never happened before. He threw her a crystal, which she caught reflexively. She just had time to glimpse an image of Toby asleep in his crib within before the crystal popped like a bubble.

"I want to play a new game with you, Sarah." He had somehow gotten very close to her all of the sudden. Sarah tried to scoot sideways to get away, but he leaned forward and placed a hand on the wall on either side of her, caging her in.

"What kind of game?" she asked fearlessly, looking him in the eye.

"A game of wills. If you win, I'll send you back home. If I win, you belong to me. Forever." he said in a casual voice, as if he was discussing the weather.

She shivered. "What are the rules?"

"You must keep perfectly quiet for the next hour," he said, pointing at the air nearby, where a golden clock appeared.

"That's all?" she asked suspiciously. His eyes held a mischievous twinkle that she didn't like at all.

"Will you play?" he challenged, avoiding her question.

Sarah thought for a moment, then met his gaze boldly and nodded. "It'll be a piece of cake."

His eyes flashed, and at first she thought it was from anger, but as he leaned in even closer she realized it was something else entirely. Off to the side, the clock started ticking.

"Oh Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, foolish girl, you know you're no match for me," he murmured in her ear, stroking one gloved knuckle down her cheek.

Sarah glared at him silently, willfully ignoring the warmth from his closeness and masculine scent that enveloped her.

"Or perhaps," he continued, his voice silken, golden hair tickling her cheek, "you _want_ to lose. To let me rule you."

Sarah bit her tongue and focused her gaze on the wall behind him, refusing to let him provoke her. So he wanted to play _this_ kind of game. Well that was fine with her, she had complete confidence in herself. She had seen plenty of his tricks over the years through these dreams. Besides, she knew her senses were somewhat dulled in the dreamscape, and that gave her hope that she could keep her focus.

His finger traced her jaw, her neck, then slid slowly across her collarbone, and her skin tingled where he had touched. He paused at the top of her chest, running his finger along the inside of her neckline, but going no further. He held her waist lightly with his other hand and moved so that their foreheads were nearly touching, so that she had to look at him. His gaze was playful, mocking, and yet still dark with… something. Not quite lust, but something more.

She stiffened and folded her arms over her chest, forcing his hand away and giving him a defiant scowl.

"Hmm, maybe not." He put both hands on her shoulders and stepped back, pulling her with him into the middle of the tunnel, where there was a bit more light. He let go of her and stood a few paces away, studying her. She kept her arms crossed and her stare fixed on the ground, wholly focused on keeping her breathing and heart rate steady as he began circling her.

"So defiant. And yet, you make no effort to escape, though I have given you opportunity to."

Sarah glanced down the tunnel, then quickly went back to staring at the ground.

"You could, you know. I'll even be generous and give you a head start. It would be an easy way to use up some of the time." He stood back some distance away from her, as if to illustrate his words.

Sarah didn't move.

"No, you're too proud to run from me, aren't you?" he resumed his circling, hands held behind his back, head held high.

"But- it's more than that," he remarked in a silken voice, watching her carefully as he reached out with one hand and trailed two warm fingers slowly across her lower back. "You're curious." The fingers traveled over her side, and then her stomach as he passed in front of her.

"Aren't you?" he purred from behind her again, his breath teasing her neck.

"You want to know what I plan to do with you, how I might make you cry out."

She tried not to react, steeling herself as he continued to prowl around her, keeping his fingers on her the whole time. They burned a path around her midsection, and she felt an answering warmth grow within her.

"Hasn't anyone warned you about curiosity, little cat?" In front of her once more, his fingers ghosted up her stomach and over her chest, before catching under her chin and bringing her gaze up to meet his. She swallowed thickly, and he watched the motion of her throat with interest. Then, without warning, he bent down and kissed her there on her neck, right where her throat met her collarbone. She jumped and tried to move back, but he had already pulled away and was watching her now with a smirk.

She blushed, but found herself unable to look away.

He moved in slowly this time, inch by inch, closing the distance between them. His hands came to rest on her waist at the same time that his lips brushed lightly against her temple. When she made no move to push him away, he tightened his grip and moved his lips to press tenderly against the spot just under her ear. Sarah closed her eyes at the sensation, but opened them again before she could lose herself in the moment. He nipped at her ear, and she grit her teeth against the shock of pleasure that ran through her. She hugged herself tighter, keeping her hands tucked into her armpits. He began to kiss and suck gently on her neck, and she found herself unconsciously leaning her head slightly to one side to give him better access.

Pleased at her failure to resist, his hands and lips became more insistent; he moved his hands down to her hips and began making small circles on her thighs with his thumbs, and started nibbling on her collarbone. She felt the compulsion to lean back, and she did, to put her arms around him, but she stopped herself by gripping the lapels of his coat, though whether to push him away or pull him closer, she did not know.

A smug chuckle against her neck brought her back to reality. She pushed him away roughly, and stepped back with a scowl, glaring at him and clenching her fists at her sides.

Unfortunately, he seemed even more pleased by this than by her cooperation. He smirked at her lazily, and began working his gloves off, bit by bit.

"That's right, get good and mad. Tell me just what you think of me."

She huffed in frustration.

"I _dare_ you," he teased, slowly pulling off one glove, and then the other. Sarah's eyes fixed on his long, pale fingers, entranced for some reason by his naked hands. There was something intimate and erotic about him taking off his gloves, and it got to her every time. He took a step towards her again, catching her hands when she brought them up to push him back. She tried to break free, but his grip was too strong; it was gentle, but unyielding. He held her hands there between them until she stilled, then slowly leaned forward and, with his eyes still fixed on hers, kissed the inside of her wrist with an open mouth, flicking his tongue out to taste her pulse point as he pulled back. He pulled the hand forward and set her palm on his chest, then repeated the action with her other hand. He let go of her wrists and stepped close to her again.

"Tell me to stop." he said in a low, sensual, teasing voice, his hands on her waist once more. "Tell me you don't want me to touch you."

It might have sounded like an impossible ultimatum, but Sarah could tell by the way he held himself back, by the way he drank in her flushed face and shallow breathing with calm poise, that this was his way of letting her know that he wouldn't take things too far, not if she wasn't willing. She knew from past dreams, that no matter how intense things got, no matter how aggressively he terrorized, threatened, or seduced her, all she had to do was turn her back on him, and he would let her go. All she had to do now was turn and walk away, (walk, not run, never run) and he wouldn't pursue her. She would wander for a few minutes, and then she would wake up, and that would be the end of it, for a time.

She considered this for a moment, eyes fixed on her hands and the silk and bare skin beneath them. He was so warm, so smooth. She ran her palms up and under his shirt to feel his strong shoulders, grinning with satisfaction when his breath hitched.

"Tell me to stop." he demanded. She looked up and stared at him thoughtfully, seeing that the teasing glint was completely gone from his eyes, and he watched her now with a sharp, serious expression. His hands stroked up and down her sides, but didn't wander too far. She reached up on her tippy-toes and kissed him chastely on the lips.

Something snapped in the air, and before she knew what was happening he had brought a hand to her lower back and pulled her flush against him, making her gasp. He took advantage of her open mouth and deepened the kiss, expertly stroking his tongue against hers in a way that made her have to swallow a moan.

His other hand combed through her hair, and she found herself becoming lost in the feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of him as he continued to kiss her passionately. She started to bring her arms up to wrap them around his neck, to bury her fingers in his silky hair, but she stopped herself just in time, fisting her hands in his shirt and yanking her head away from his hungry mouth.

He moved his lips to her neck without missing a beat, tasting and nipping at her in a way that turned her into jelly in his arms. Her gaze caught on the clock, and, seeing that only fifteen minutes had passed, she realized that things were moving too fast. She took a deep breath and pushed him away.

This time he was the one to huff in irritation, as he scowled at her and ran a hand through his hair. She was gratified to see that she wasn't the only one affected by the kiss.

Feeling a need to calm herself, she turned around and put her back to him and crossed her arms again, hoping that he would take the silent hint to give her a moment.

He didn't. Before she could regret her overconfidence, strong arms were wrapped around her middle and a hard male body was pressed up against her from behind.

"This is a piece of cake, is it?" he hissed in her ear, "Well then, how about upping the stakes?"

Before she could formulate a response her jeans were unbuttoned and one those long, bare fingers snaked beneath her underwear and was working her nub. She reacted entirely against her will, melting back into him and opening her mouth in a silent keen. HIs other hand held her tightly under her ribs to keep her upright, and his breath was ragged against her neck. The finger moved to tease her vulva, running back and forth across her opening several times before entering her. Sarah gasped and bit her lip, and found her arms uncrossed and her hands buried in his hair.

"Look at me." he commanded quietly, angling his head to better see her face.

She shook her head and looked away, closing her eyes and trying to keep her quickened breathing quiet.

Another finger entered her. "Look at me Sarah. I want to see you." he hooked his fingers inside her and began kneading her nub with his thumb, and she inhaled sharply and snapped her head towards him.

"Good girl."

He watched her for a moment with hooded eyes, and then seized her lips, mimicking with his tongue what he was doing with his fingers. Sarah kissed him back fiercely, glad her mouth was occupied and kept from making noise, but something tickled in the back of her mind, keeping her from enjoying it fully. This wasn't _fair,_ she thought with a little smirk _._ She pulled one hand from his hair and reached back between them, cupping him in her hand and giving him a squeeze.

He hissed and pushed her away from him, only to seize her again and spin her around, crushing her front to hiss and kissing her heatedly as he walked her back and up against the wall. He ground his pelvis into hers and she bit back a moan at the hardness of him. She helped him remove his coat and shirt, then he bent quickly, tugging down her pants and underwear. She kicked off her shoes to help him and stifled a squeak as he gave her a sharp nip on her leg as he finished removing her pants. He stood, and she bit her lip at the hot feel of his hand on her bare thigh, lifting her leg up around his waist, and she wondered at the look of almost-tenderness that flickered in his eyes as he positioned himself, rubbing his head against her heated, ready entrance.

She wondered if he knew it was really her, hidden inside the body of his dream-Sarah. She was sure he didn't, and for some reason that made her unbearably sad. Such thoughts were forced from her mind, however, as he filled her in one slow, heavy stroke, and began to move within her, deep and strong.

Oh, what was this, this fire coursing through her veins, this exotic heat that pulsed rhythmically through her, scorching her very soul? Only he ever made her feel this way. Was that why all her relationships had failed? Was she subconsciously waiting for the turn of the season, for the next solstice, bidding her time until she could feel his touch again? Was she really choosing a dream over reality? No. Certainly not. That would be pathetic.

He moved within her, and everything else fell away.

After a few minutes he sped up his rhythm, pushing her into the wall with each thrust. She wrapped her arms around his neck so that she wasn't resting all her weight on the one leg, and bit down on her bicep to stifle a moan and quiet her noisy breathing.

"Say my name, Sarah." he demanded. She shook her head from side to side, though from pleasure or defiance, she couldn't tell.

"Say my name!" he growled, pounding into her. His thrusts were starting to lose their rhythm; he was nearing release.

"Say my name…" he gasped in a desperate and broken voice, one that grabbed and held Sarah's attention like nothing else had. Their eyes met, and for a moment there was an air of breathless expectancy, an inquisitive hopefulness, before Sarah looked away. He changed the angle of his thrusts so that his pubic bone pressed against her clitoris, and she melted into him. A powerful surge of pleasure rocked her senses, and she held her breath and bit her lip until it bled to keep from crying out as she came.

"Sarah…" he moaned. Feeling her clench around him, he gripped her hips painfully and drove into her one final time, burying his face in her neck as he gave her all he had.

They held each other as their breathing and heart rates slowed. Sarah was dazed from the effort of staying quiet, and almost missed his defeated sigh.

She braced herself against the wall as he pulled out and situated himself, looking disinterestedly at the ground. He grabbed his shirt and coat and gloves off the ground and put them on, still not looking at her. "If only you were really here, Sarah-mine. Oh what I would give to have you in truth." his words were barely audible, as if he was talking to himself. He waved a dismissive hand at her, and she suddenly realized that he was aware of this being a dream, and was trying to wake up. She resisted the compulsion to leave, to wake up, suddenly feeling as if she had missed something crucial.

When she didn't go right away, he looked up and stared at her for a moment in confusion, and she met his gaze with a similar expression. His face went from bafflement to denial to furious disbelief.

" _Sarah?"_

Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say a word, everything faded to black.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Well, you asked for it. There will be one more part to this little pwp, but I can't say when. If you see any typos please pm me about them. Hope you enjoyed!**


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